


a day out of time

by shatterbrained (fabricatedMiracles)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Cheesy romance, HSWC 2014, M/M, fire manipulation, sunstuck au? idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2018-03-07 07:22:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3166334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fabricatedMiracles/pseuds/shatterbrained
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>this was meant for hswc 2014 but my team picked the cliche entry for the theme "cycles". so enjoy this, maybe?</p>
            </blockquote>





	a day out of time

_The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams. -Eleanor Roosevelt_

• • • •

_Day 01_

i woke up with a dream today

i think i met some sort of god but i cant remember if they were male or female or how i knew them

and now theres a kinda blocky looking burn thing on my hand that bros old japanese for dummies book and google confirmed as the kanji for sun

all i have to say about this is that i wish i didnt have to go because if theres something i know its that im leaving him

i guess ill miss my other friends too though given our situation ill miss him the most

and now i cant stop remembering how we met

ironically enough im in english class again

• • • •

_So long as the memory of certain beloved friends lives in my heart, I shall say that life is good. -Helen Keller_

• • • •

Your name was (and still is) Dave Strider, and it was your fifth school, you remember, that you burned down by mistake.

Test anxiety's a powerful thing, and you don't recommend it to anyone. It can burn buildings down, and that shit is not a shindig.

Anyway, when you and Bro moved to Maple Valley, you started your junior year there, and you met John Egbert.

He wasn't your mentor, your tutor, your enemy, the bully, the bullied, none of that.

He was the dude that caught you doing _the thing_ in the bathroom.

Ew, no, not _*that* that thing_.

Anyway, yeah, it had been a bad day for you, that one. None of that stereotypical anime bullshit, either. It was just straight up bad.

Burned eggs, falling off your skateboard, getting a low score on a quiz you didn't study for (though that was okay, you deserved that)... Small things all built up into something big and aggravating that rolled and thumped downhill, demolishing any semblance of self-control that lingered in its path.

Which meant that, in seventh period English, your hands went up in flames.

Scrambling out of your seat before you could burn your handprint into anything, you ran out into the hall, grateful for the cold tile beneath your feet. You wouldn't be leaving burn marks on that as you hauled ass to the bathroom, and that was just one less thing to worry about.

God, the bathrooms in schools always smelled like shit, literally and figuratively.

But there was water here.

So you moved to the sink, because you only used toilet water as a last resort, and ran the water, covering the drain with your palms.

_Hissssss._

Steam rose as the cold water hit your fire, extinguishing it, and you didn't bother to move; you never got steam burns.

And then.

The door opened, and your heart leapt into your throat. The bathroom was full of steam, your hands were in the sink, and there was no way to leave without looking suspicious.

Well, _shit_.

"Well, shit." Came a voice, and for a second, you wondered if the guy was a mind reader or some fuckery like that. It would be just your luck; Tuesdays, after all, were not your days.

He came in, squinting as he pulled his steamed-up lenses off, and he sniffed the air. Grimacing at the standard Eau de Toilet of a school bathroom, he looked at you, and he said, in a voice that made your heart leap with utter irritation, "Nice going, Einstein. Trying to cool off your crackpipe before heading back to class?"

"No." You immediately retort. "I... burned my hand during lunch. On my ramen."

Well, you _had_ eaten that. So.

"Fair enough, though that doesn't explain the steam... I'd rather not get involved in your bullshit, though... I'm John. You need the nurse?"

Rolling your eyes behind your shades, you shoot back, "I'm Dave, and I'm fine."

• • • •

_I think it is all a matter of love: the more you love a memory, the stronger and stranger it is. -Vladimir Nabokov_

• • • •

_Day 08_

john and i had a date tonight and neither of us really wants to believe that im actually gonna poof because that is beyond depressing because wow there goes graduation and prom and shit

so anyway to try and beat the sads we went to his house and did what we usually do and just put on his shitty nic cage films

neither of us really paid attention which was weird for him but it was kinda nice how he told me all his feelings and stuff

hes so frustrated that he cant do anything and all i could do was sit there and be the warm cuddle-buddy on a cold winter night (even though its like march and spring starts tomorrow)

it was painful for me in a different way

because his tears turned into steam the second they neared my skin

and i watched the steam dissipate and i just realized that i never felt it at all

and for some damn reason

not feeling those tears ripped my heart out

so i think i cried too

even if neither of us could tell

jesus christ that boy has my heart in his pocket

• • • •

_The first stab of love is like a sunset, a blaze of color -- oranges, pearly pinks, vibrant purples... -Anna Godbersen_

• • • •

Your name was (and still is) Dave Strider, and you were pretty sure you'd be more at ease with throwing your own dead body out your bedroom window than with what you were about to do.

The credits rolled, on screen, and John looked up at you, smiling that special smile that made your heart flutter nervously in your too-warm chest.

You had found, over time, friendship with John Egbert, and then, with a pang like a rude ray of sunshine jamming itself through the crack in your blinds to shine right on your face while you were trying to sleep in on a Saturday morning, it struck you that you were actually... dating him. Summer, before senior year.

You had a relationship. And it felt... Awkward and new. But every feeling was an experience all its own, and only John had ever been able to make you feel so happy and free and scared and imperfect all at once.

It was really amazing, how close you'd grown, but there was still something that divided you, which you had kept hidden since November, since you were hanging out, just as buddies.

Fire.

"John," You began. Your voice sounded sick, but a quick clearing of the throat, and you were back in action, voice coming smoothly, though with audible apprehension.

His smile faded, and he shifted from where he was sitting against your legs on the floor, setting the popcorn bowl aside. He could pretty clearly sense you were tense, and it was clearly enough to distress him to some degree.

"What's going on, Dave?" He inquired, his voice a little too high and a little too panicky, though you pretended not to notice that as you answered.

Wringing your hands nervously, you murmured, "Well, you know we've been going out on what I like to call dates. Hanging out, watching movies... all that jazz. And, well. I was thinking about it, and I'd really."

The words stuck in your throat, a wad of language getting wedged in you halfway to its destination, but you blurted out that you wanted him to be your boyfriend, because you really liked him and then his face lit up and your panic started melting away until you remembered.

"Before you answer. I have something that you... really need to know. But you can't tell anyone."

Worry flitted across his face, and you assured him you weren't dying of anything quite yet. He relaxed, if only a little, and you admitted, ashamed, what you could do.

"John, I can manipulate fire… I’ve got sun powers."

He laughed at you. You weren't offended by that; it was just what you would do. However, you could prove it, so you offered to prove to him that you were indeed telling him the truth.

As usual, he was skeptical.

But when you took him out to the backyard, sat him on the steps, and let yourself relax, flames slowly came into being on your hands, licking up and around your fingers without a trace of pain.

His eyes were wide enough to look silly, but you didn't laugh as you grabbed a branch off the ground and held it, then, with a little sound of exertion, flared and burned it to soft white ashes.

"I thought that it was important that you know why the hell I'm so hot." You joked half-heartedly as the flames petered out from your own fear, and he just kind of stared a second before nodding and saying something that you couldn't even hear.

Bump, bump, against each other, went your worn hightops' heels. "Ya mind talkin' a spot louder? I ain't hearin' ya." Your Texan was showing, but you didn't care.

You were so unbelievably terrified. You had never told anyone or shown anyone your fire. And you were so scared you'd burned the delicate bridge that you had built together, with John, until he said it.

"Yes, Dave."

"I'm so sorry, I didn't t- What?" Your voice cracks at the end, and you're so astounded that you can't even cover your mouth or even try to disguise the fact that you're seventeen and your voice cracked just like when you were twelve.

John sighed, slowly shaking his head as he grinned. "I said yes, I'll be your boyfriend, numbnuts."

Stammering in the most uncool way you could possibly manage, you try to explain the whole mess, but he doesn't let you.

You can't speak when his arms wrap around you tight, and though he playfully tells you to shut up, you know for certain as you hug him back that you would never have been able to say anything anyway.

• • • • 

_Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before. -Edgar Allan Poe_

• • • •  
 _Day 15_

i remembered my dream

some sun god claiming to be my parent came to me and called me back to the sun where i apparently come from and so like contrary to science its not a collection of gas in space its more like a place where super powerful parental unit lives

so it goes like

yo dave im your other family member and im why you and your bro are all hot and fiery and i need you to come out to the sun

and i said sure thats cool can my bf come

parental was like nope

and so i was like damn okay well can i say bye and so they said sure have a solar cycle and then they said 27 days

then i pointed out it was 27.155 and that i needed a day out of time for a complete solar cycle

28 days

they agreed i woke up and now im wondering what i got myself into because the worst thing i just had to find out the hard way

is that bro cant go either

• • • •

_To say goodbye is to die a little. -Raymond Chandler_

• • • •

Your name was (and still is) Derrick Strider, and you hated (and still hate) disappointing the people you love.

Especially not your brother, Dave.

Dave had come to you that first day, telling you all his worries in a way far too unusual for a Strider, but necessary, given the situation he was in, and besides, he was your lil' bro. Pipsqueak. Squirt. He was practically your kid, and you'd cut a meteor in half before you let anything happen to him.

You knew all too well this would happen, this whole journey to the sun, and you were far too fucking frustrated and even somewhat hurt that you had to sit back and let Dave go.

All because you weren't good enough to go. Dave was a fire; you were always an ember. And so when he assumed, finally, that you would be going, you corrected him.

"I ain't gonna be goin', squirt. Ya need t'go alone."

Dave's brows knit, and he looked at you from the other side of the sofa, and then he asked, "So you've been?"

Putting down your controller, you turned your attention from your rousing game of Hexic HD (which you were playing out of sheer laziness: you didn't even feel like getting up and putting a game in the XBox; it was a little bland, until you got going with the starflowers, and then the pearls, and it turned into a challenging little thing) to Dave.

You admit, with a sigh, "Never invited. Parental unit ain't lookin' for emberkids like me."

"...Emberkids?" He responded, setting down his phone, upon which he was chatting with John, as the blue text on screen showed. Tapping out a 'bbs' (you could tell by the way his finger moved), he locked the screen. "Elaborate."

You weren't exactly sure you were the best person to explain this, but then again, in your own eyes, were you ever the best person?

_Focus, Derr,_ you reminded yourself. _Not everythin’ is 'bout ya._

Running a hand through your golden hair, you began your explanation, throwing your concern over your authority out the fuckin' window.

"See, ya have... Different power than I got. Ya call up fire, grow plants, all that. An' m'like... A space heater who eats like a whole damn army. I don't do a whole lot. If anythin', m'what's left over. An ember. Get that much?"

"Yeah."

"Ya got the long straw here, though, Dave. All sorts 'a fancy powers, an' a bunch more ya ain't ever heard of," You rumbled, in an attempt to be encouraging.

A nod, and Dave took his aviators off (after making sure Cal wasn't in the room), looking at you with eyes that some had called blood red, but that you knew as dawn red. He looked... a lot further from the child he once was.

He looked so damn tired of this bullshit, and Hell if you wouldn't give your life to take that burden from him.

Finally, you'd found a weight you were not strong enough to carry.

And it made you so sad.

“Bro,” Dave said, his face looking as if he were crying, though not a single tear made it out of his eyes. “When I come back… Will you be here?”

And then you couldn’t help yourself.

You dragged him into a massive bear hug and whispered fiercely as you held your brother in that way you both needed in the moment.

“I’ll do m’damnedest t’be here for ya.”

• • • •

_Fear makes us feel our humanity. -Benjamin Disraeli_

• • • •

_Day 24_

im not going out today

im not going anywhere because i hate the looks of pity on the faces of my friends who i lied to about where im going in like six days

and so im skipping school today man because todays the day im taking for myself just like yesterday and the day before and the day before

im totally not afraid and im not hiding and im pretty sure im not crying

just need a day for dave

WAIT WHAT

john just pchummed me hes skipping too because whoa okay his dad is letting him skip school to come to my house and deliver me goodbye cupcakes

god i gotta put on my decent pajamas

do my hair get my shad

HES ALREADY HERE JESUS

GOTTA GO FAST

• • • •

_Time is making fools of us again. - J.K. Rowling_

• • • •

_Day 28_

todays our day out of time

john has been at my house since i said he came over

he told his dad about me and then i gave the proof and mr egbert just was amazing about it all like wow he didnt even let us ask permission he just told john to be with me because i needed it

and we didnt pull a shitty movie trick and have sex

we did however kiss and cuddle a lot and i am not ashamed to admit how much i loved it

and how much i love him

i gotta go though because were gonna go out and do whatever

but i dont care

because were gonna do it together

• • • •

_There is no pain so great as the memory of joy in present grief. -Aeschylus_

• • • •

Your name w-

Your name _is_.

Actively.

At this moment.

Right now.

You are John Egbert.

And though you’re grinning outside, inside you’re crying.

Sitting in the park with Dave, at four in the morning, watching the moon set, you can’t help but think of everything you were hoping for and how much it hurts that you can’t do any of it any more.

Eventually, you fall silent and lean close, Dave pushes his shades up into his hair and leans in to meet you halfway, and your lips meet over and over again in chaste kisses in the darkness, and only the lightening of the sky snaps you both out of your haze.

And Dave’s marked right hand is glowing.

It’s almost time.

The sun is rising.

The new solar cycle is coming.

And you’re scared.

But never as afraid as Dave. He’s sparking, shaking, trying to keep his cool and failing, and his hands are hot around yours where he’s clutching them. Every second brings the sky closer to day, and red light begins to shine on the leaves.

You’re crying, and you can tell because you can’t see Dave anymore and your glasses are still on. He’s just a blur in a red jacket, and your chest is tight as both of you sob, his crying without tears and yours with enough for the two of you.

“Dave,” You say, clutching at his shirt and hauling him into an embrace, “Dave, don’t go. _Don’t leave me!_ ” Your voice is breaking, and you don’t care, you don’t, you need Dave to stay but his glow is getting brighter with every inch the sun rises over the mountains in the distance.

His arms came around you, hands finding your hair, and he whispered, “I don’t want to go, but I made a promise to the sun… John, I… I gave my word.”

“And Striders don’t break promises, right?”

“ _I_ don’t break ‘em, and I won’t if ya won’t break ‘em.”

You sigh. “Egberts are gentlemen, and gentlemen are trustworthy.” His grip tightens, and God, you can’t breathe, but you revel in his warmth on the cold spring morning.

“John, will you wait for me?”

A burning breath catches in you, halfway between parted lips and aching lungs, and you nod, nod, nod, nod urgently as you say yes, swearing on your life that you will.

“I’ll wait for you until the end of time.”

The sun breaks the horizon, the red light of the sunrise touching you both, and his eyes, bare, glow brightly as he begins to dissipate in your arms.

“John, John, tell Bro I left, tell him I love him!” Dave said, his voice sounding like an echo, distant in your ears.

You nod, and you say, voice breaking, “Dave, I love you,” just as he says that he’ll come back, he’ll be back home for you and for his brother and all your friends.

He melts into sunshine, and you can hear on the wind, faintly, like a whisper, his voice.

“I love you too.”

• • • •

_It’s hard to be the one who stays. -Audrey Niffenegger_

• • • •

_I keep myself busy. Time goes faster that way. -Audrey Niffenegger_

• • • •

_Day 588_

dave’s been gone so long. i miss him so much… i read through all his entries on every day out of time that comes, and i remember.

dear dave, where are you? are you having a nice time with your parents? parent? whoever’s there with you.

leann rimes was right.

how do i live without you? i want to know.

because i still haven’t figured it out.

• • • •

_If in the twilight of memory we should meet once more, we shall speak again together and you shall sing to me a deeper song. -Khalil Gibran_

• • • •

Your name is Dave Strider, and according to your calculations…

You’ll be home in three minutes, traveling just under lightspeed, and just in time to ride the light through the ‘spheres.

You’re red light, suddenly, and you have no body, but you are aware and you’re flying, breaking through the atmosphere and falling, falling towards a city that’s vaguely familiar, through clouds that should feel wet.

You’re the sunset, the sunrise, you are the sun.

And you shine in through a window, only become corporeal again against the far wall of the room you’re in.

Staggering to your feet, you flick your shades up into your hair, trying to figure out where you are, and you hear a voice you’ve been longing to hear for far, far too long.

“Dave, Dave, oh my God.” A book thuds to the floor, and then you turn just in time to see John stand.

Who knows who ran first? But it was perfect, how you were touching, his skin cool and yours warm, as outside, the sky darkened, and inside, your glow faded.

“John… Where am I?”

“S… Seattle. In my college dorm. I… Thought you said you’d. Go home…?”

Suddenly, you laugh, realizing the irony of this situation. Bro would be proud.

“John… Home is where the heart is. And I don’t love anyone more than you.”

“Oh, God, Daaaave. That’s so unbelievably cheesy.” John groaned, shoving you in the chest, and you slung an arm around his shoulders, grinning, and said, “Do you have the Gripe video chat extension for Pesterchum? Yeah? I hope Bro’s still in shape, then. He’s gonna need it to survive the heart attack we’re about to give him.”

**Author's Note:**

> i run on kudos and comments. please leave some!


End file.
